From Russia with Love
by Emm
Summary: Well, basically Brock's on the rebound and decides to set his sights a little futher afield.


**From Russia With Leather Catsuits**  
  
Authors Note: I got this off a certain episode of a cartoon from Cartoon Network, because I thought the idea was funny. I'm suprised no-one has done it before. Note: The characters in this fanfic have an unhealthy TV obsession. Like me.  
  
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Brock sat on the floor watching daytime TV, occasionally moving his arm to grab a handful of popcorn out of the large bowl in front of him. He looked terrible; his bloodshot eyes had dark shadows under them, his eyelids drooping tiredly. His hair was nothing but a scruffy mess that stuck up at all angles, and a five o'clock shadow adorned his jaw. He slumped against the couch, wearing just a pair of baggy old tracksuit bottoms and dirtied trainers that definitely looked like they'd seen better days.  
  
He watched Jerry Springer talk to a pierced adolescent, tatoos covering every visible part of her body as she bitched to everyone about how her Mum slept with her friends cousins uncles aunts dog. Or something like that. Just as another thrilling fight broke out on the stage, a loud tapping came from the front door of Brock's apartment. Brock looked towards the door with contempt then turned back to his TV, hoping the intruder would go away. But the tapping got louder and more impatient, quickly turning to a persistent banging. Whoever it was was *not* going to go away.  
  
"It's open!" he croaked, his voice hoarse from dis-use. The rapping stopped and the door was quietly pushed open.   
  
"Brock?" a female voice called from the doorway. Brock, on recognising the voice, rolled his eyes.  
  
"What?" he asked bitterly. Misty timidly picked her way through the beer bottles and abandoned pizza boxes littering the floor, and flicked on the switch. Brock immediately shut his eyes as the light invaded his sight, and hissed like a vampire.  
  
"The light! It buuuuurns!"  
  
"My God, Brock! Hallowe'en's come early" Misty yelped, giving Brock the once-over. "You look like the son of Frankenstein! What the hell happened?!"   
  
"Ahlukfinthankyu"  
  
"What? You're speaking all jumbled, what did you say?" Misty frowned.  
  
"Turn your hearing aid up! I said I look fine" he repeated, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.  
  
"Brock, trust me, you don't look very pretty" she smiled, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Eh" was all she got in reply.  
  
"Brock, I'm... we're getting worried about you" Misty remarked, a touch of concern in her voice. "I haven't seen you in days! Ever since you got dumped by Jeannie--"  
  
"Oh God!" Brock wailed, letting his head flop into his hands. "Even her very name is like a knife twisting into my heart!"  
  
"Hey, don't get all poetic on me, now" she smiled weakly, nudging his prone figure with her foot. "Are you really going to sit around here all day and mope about her?"  
  
Brock thought this over for a second, then nodded his head.   
  
"Yes."  
  
"You're just letting her get to you. Get a grip, Slate" she snapped, frustrated at his current comatose state. Brock glared up at her, before resting his chin onto his palm, not having enough energy for a fight. Misty's face softened.  
  
"I'm going to Veridian City to get some stuff for my gym. Ash is coming too. Do you want to tag along?" she asked hopefully. Brock shook his head half-heartedly. Misty hissed through her front teeth.   
  
"Let's see what's on the radio, huh?" she suggested brightly, twisting the dial. As the first few beats of Unchained Melody echoed around the room, he wailed pitifully again.  
  
"What *now*?" Misty growled, turning the radio back off.  
  
"That was OUR song!" he explained miserably, pulling at his hair pathetically.  
  
"Come on outside, Brock. It's a beautiful day!" she persisted. Again, all he did was shake his head.  
  
"Ai ai ai," she muttered, rubbing her head. "Fine, stay here and mope. I really couldn't give a sh--"  
  
She was suddenly interrupted by someone papping on their car hooter in the street outside. "That'll be Ash, he's waiting for me in the car. But if you do decide to clean yourself and come outside, you know where to find me"  
  
Brock didn't acknowledge her as she walked out the door, choosing to stare blankly at the television instead. He changed the channel to Oprah, shovelling yet more popcorn into his mouth.  
  
"-- So then, I just decided I couldn't take more!" the hysterical woman on the TV sobbed. "But he begged me to take him back... and I did. But he just kept having affair after affair; with my sister, my cousin, my brother and my pet chipmunk. Then came the mail order bride from Romania..."  
  
Brock shot up straight, almost choking on his popcorn. He stopped listening to the rest of his show, just letting the womans last few words bounce inside his head. He rubbed his stubbly chin thoughtfully, then for the first time in days, a smile grew across his face. Brushing the stray popcorn off of his bare torso, he staggered over towards the computer and sat down.  
  
~~~   
  
"So... uh... remind me again why Brock's not here?" Ash asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Misty raised her eyes to the heavens, annoyed at having to be drawn away from the TV show for the tenth time.   
  
"He's being all miserable because he's been dumped by his girlfriend. Apparently she hit on his brother or something. And his Dad. Actually, I think she hit on most of his brothers. And a couple of his sisters, come to think of it"  
  
"What a slut" Ash bitched. Misty nodded in agreement.  
  
"She was a cute slut though" he added, grinning. Misty gave him a disgusted look, to which he shrugged his shoulders innocently. "Wha'd I say?"  
  
"Hey guys" Brock grinned as he bounced confidently through the door, not bothering to knock.  
  
"Heeey, look who blessed us with his almighty presense" Misty said sarcastically. Brock ignored her comment, turning to the both of them excitedly.   
  
"Ok, you'll never guess what--"  
  
"You actually shaved too" Misty remarked, her eyes widening. "It gets me so choked up to know that you'd do that for us"  
  
"Would you stop with the sarcasm, please? I really have something important to tell you" Brock pleaded, turning his back and crossing his arms huffily. "You *always* do this! It's just yap yap yap with you, but do you ever listen to *me* when I've got something to say? Nooooo..."  
  
Misty rolled her eyes. "Sorry" she mumbled reluctantly.  
  
"It's just that I feel like you never want to hear how *I* feel. You give me no consideration, you know that? You're just selfish, it's all take take take and no give with you" he pouted, putting his hands on his hips and looking very much like a moody housewife. "You should show me some more respect, you know. You keep on showing me absolutely no respect like that, yet you still want a hot meal on the table when you get in. You're neglecting me. My Mother always warned me about girls like you. Maybe I should just walk out"  
  
"No!" Misty cried as he walked over towards the door, putting her hands on his shoulders. "I can change! I'll make it up to you, I swear!"  
  
"Oh, I've heard that one before" he sulked, turning his face away.  
  
"Excuse me!" Ash butted in, looking quite annoyed. "Can we please get back on topic?"   
  
"Oh... yeah." Brock grinned to himself and licked his lips. "I have this!" he grinned triumphantly, proudly holding a wrapped brown paper bag. Misty smiled.  
  
"Good idea, you can wear it over your head. If nobody can see your face then you'll be *sure* to get a date"  
  
"Cute, but no" he sighed, slowly unwrapping the bag. "See, after you left yesterday, I was watching TV when I suddenly got this brilliant idea. So I went on the net and I ordered this." He grinned excitedly as he shoved a glossy magazine under Ash's nose. Misty snatched it off him, and looked down at it. She glanced at him oddly.  
  
"You're kidding! Please don't tell me you're actually considering... this!" She shook her head in disbelief. "You're buying a mail order bride?"  
  
"Yes I am" he grinned. "And I'm not just *considering* it either... I've already ordered her!"  
  
Both looked at him in total shock, the silence finally broken by Ash grinning and starting to laugh. "Ha! Good going, Brock! You da man!"  
  
Misty on the other hand, was horrified. "You can't be serious!" she squeaked, jumping to her feet. "You can't actually be doing this! I mean... you're *buying* a person!"  
  
"I know, isn't it great?"  
  
"Hey Brock, is her photo in here?" Ash asked, flicking through the pages. Brock bit his lip nervously.  
  
"Well... no. Y'see... I didn't really have that much money so I had to buy one from the bargain bin section"  
  
"Insanity! Temporary insanity, that's what it is!" Misty shouted, jabbing a finger at Brock. "You're on the rebound, Brock. You ain't thinking straight"  
  
The two boys looked at her strangely following her outburst, then turned back to their conversation. "So what's her name?" Ash asked eagerly, obviously approving the whole idea.  
  
"Olga. She's from Russia, and she calls herself 'gorgeous, smart, blond and very very sexy' " Brock said excitably, like a kid in a sweet shop. "I have to pick her up from the airport tomorrow"  
  
"Sounds great!" Ash grinned.   
  
"Oooolga" Brock drawled dreamily. "Olga. Sounds kinda like... angel, doesn't it?"  
  
"No" Misty frowned.  
  
"Yes" Ash agreed.  
  
"I can't believe you two!" Misty fumed. "You're talking about this poor woman like she's some kind of object! I don't have to stick around and listen to this."   
  
She grabbed her coat and turned to face them "Trust me, this is all going to end in tears" she warned. "And don't come crying to me when it does, because I'll just laugh and laugh and call you a pathetic loser"  
  
"I think you're just jealous because they don't do mail order husbands" Ash teased her, sticking his tongue out. Misty shook her head in disgust.  
  
"I'm going down the pub" she declared dramatically, slamming the door behind her. Brock jumped up behind her and opened the door.  
  
"And don't think you can come staggering in at three o'clock in the morning!" he hollered down the hallway. "Be back by eight or the dog gets your dinner!"  
  
  
  
TBC...  
  
  
  
  
Authors Note: Aggghhhh! I know, I know, it sucked! I can't do humour! I don't even know whether I'll carry it on, I just wanted to try it out.  



End file.
